


Blueberry Bagel

by Klioud



Series: Berseria 99 [1]
Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Age Changes, An Attempt at Writing Comedy Was Made™, Berseria 99, Brooklyn 99-inspired AU, Comedy, Food, Gen, Mentions of Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 20:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13666758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klioud/pseuds/Klioud
Summary: Brooklyn 99-inspired AU.Sergeant Eizen Wexub has locked himself in the break room. Midgand Empire's finest try to figure out why.“Seriously?” Magilou says and points a finger in Dyle's direction. “Enough with the snacks! We've got a bagel burning in there, and all you guys can think about is food?!”“It's not burning!” Eleanor snaps. “I put on―”“That's not the point!” Magilou turns. Jabs that same finger towards Eleanor. “Eizen locked himself in there for a reason. What we need to do now is figure out why.”Closing her eyes, Eleanor presses her thumb and middle finger to either temple.Whydoes not matter. She just wants her lunch.





	Blueberry Bagel

Detective Eleanor Hume should have known better.

Everyone in the Ninety-ninth Precinct knows that you do not leave your meals unattended. Dyle might eat your sandwich. You might find the telltale footprints of Benwick's “informants” in your potato salad. Worst of all, Magilou might tamper with your food. She has replaced hard-boiled eggs with shell-less frozen ones in the past.

So Eleanor knew she was asking for trouble when she left her homemade bagel alone in the break room toaster oven for a minute and forty seconds. Only, this was not the kind of trouble she had expected.

After adding a few more lines to her report, Eleanor returned to find the break room locked. The blinds were completely closed.

“Sarge is in there,” Rokurou said to her without looking up from his Class Four Administrative Zone of a desk. 

That had been twenty minutes ago.

The captain is nowhere in sight. Eleanor can only assume that Captain Crowe has gone out somewhere with her nephew for the afternoon. She bites the inside of her cheek. The person with the highest authority left inside the precinct is the sergeant himself. There is no one else present who could order him to open the door.

Eleanor had used those twenty minutes to add a few more paragraphs to her report. Now she knocks lightly on the door. 

“Occupied!” Eizen says from the other side.

“He's still in there?” Rokurou looks up at her.

In ten seconds flat, Rokurou, Dyle, and the captain's assistant form a circle between the door and Rokurou's bio-hazard of a desk.

“What is he even doing in there?” Eleanor knows that they have not gathered to listen to her vent. But a part of her senses that this will be her only opportunity. 

“Probably burning your gross blueberry bagel to cinders,” Magilou says.

“It's not gross! And, he wouldn't do that. Besides,” Eleanor hesitates. As a birthday present, she had once gifted to him a batch of homemade stained-glass cookies. Eizen took just one bite before sliding the remainder of them into his desk-side trash bin. Indignation saw her meet his unwavering stare as he disposed of them. “I-I turned the timer on for it.”

Eleanor has learned that Magilou can smell a person's unease. So she is not surprised when Magilou's smile widens right then.

“If you're hungry, I've got some snacks in my desk,” Rokurou says. Waves a hand in the general direction of his personal junkyard. Eleanor is unable to suppress a shudder.

“That's... kind, of you,” she manages to say. “But I think I'll pass.”

“You sure?” He gives her a small smile. It almost looks like he is pitying her. The possibility is irksome.

“I'm sure,” Eleanor says a little too coldly. Rokurou places a hand over his heart. 

“What?” he says, “Are my snacks not good enough for you?” 

“Rokurou, _you_ shouldn't even be eating them.” Eleanor frowns a little. “No one should eat anything that's been sitting in your desk drawer for four months!” 

“Five,” Rokurou amends. Drops his hand from his chest. “But hard candy lasts way longer than that!”

“Yes, but, considering the grill or griddle― whichever, you keep under there,” she gestures at the extension cord taped to the floor that starts under his desk and leads to the nearest wall outlet, “they've probably melted so many times that they've all fused with their wrappers.”

Rokurou tilts his head to the side. Lets out a one-note laugh. It makes her frown deepen.

“As it is, hard candy hardly counts a 'snack'. It's unhealthy!”

Now Rokurou frowns too.

“Hold up―”

“How come you never offer me any of your snacks, Rokurou?” Dyle asks and swishes his tail. It does not quite sound like accusation as much as it does a hint.

“Seriously?” Magilou says and points a finger in Dyle's direction. “Enough with the snacks! We've got a bagel burning in there, and all you guys can think about is food?!”

“It's not burning!” Eleanor snaps. “I put on―”

“That's not the point!” Magilou turns. Jabs that same finger towards Eleanor. “Eizen locked himself in there for a reason. What we need to do now is figure out why.”

Closing her eyes, Eleanor presses her thumb and middle finger to either temple. _Why_ does not matter. She just wants her lunch.

“Let's hear it,” Magilou says.

Eleanor lets out a sigh that seems to go unheard by everyone else. Lowering her hand, she opens her eyes.

“Well, it's probably something pret-ty embarrassing.” Rokurou raises a hand to his cup his own chin. Eleanor watches as his eyelids nearly meet. Something about his smile looks sinister. It matches Magilou's own.

“Is he in there alone?” Dyle asks. Steps closer to try and peek in through the blinded window.

“I think so,” Rokurou says, “but I wasn't really paying attention.”

“Perhaps he's organizing his files,” Eleanor says. “He's mentioned before that his desk is too cluttered to spread his paperwork on.”

“Boooring.” Magilou accentuates this with an exaggerated yawn. “Come on Eleanor, can't you do better than that?” Instinctively, Eleanor crosses her arms over her chest. Reminds herself that she does not care about the _why_. She is just about to say exactly that when Rokurou speaks up.

“Where was he before?” Rokurou looks pointedly at Magilou.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because you sit right across from him.” Rokurou nods in the direction of Magilou and Eizen's desks. They are placed just outside the captain's office. “Didn't you see him leave it?”

“I was working.” Clasping her hands behind her head, Magilou leans away. “You know, doing my _job_?”

“Riiight,” Rokurou says. “Your job. What was that again?”

“She got into the boss's Netflix account. Started messing around with the view history, likes and recommendations, that kind of stuff,” Dyle says. It looks like Magilou is about to topple over. Eleanor is not sure she has ever seen her look so genuinely surprised before.

“How'd you know?”

“I,” Dyle hesitates, “I sit next to you?” The last syllable curls up in apparent disbelief. 

Magilou squints at him.

“Really? How long have you been―”

“That's it.” Eleanor's hands close into fists. “It's been long enough!”

She pivots in place to face the door. Lifts a fist into the air. It feels so heavy in this sudden silence. A part of her wants to knock on the door until the sergeant has to let her in to get her to stop. But a thought occurs to her abruptly. She could be interrupting something important. There have been times where her own train of thought was derailed by a ringing phone or the sound of an electric pencil sharpener. 

Whatever Eizen is doing in there could be crucial to the massive case he has been working for the last month and a half. If she knocks right now, she might knock him off the rails. Might jeopardize his entire case.

Suddenly, the _why_ begins to matter. 

Her fist falls to her side. Magilou lets out an _ooohh_ as it drops. It is almost painful to turn back around to face her co-workers.

“He's working on a case,” Eleanor says. “Let's just leave him alone.”

“No, he's definitely not.” Eleanor looks over to her right for Benwick. Next to Rokurou's desk is Benwick's own. But he is not at it. Instead, he stands behind Eizen's desk. Its surface is crowded by stacks of paper and the almost-comically old PC monitor Eizen refuses to replace. Benwick picks up a folder from the disarray. Eleanor recognizes the case number printed in large lettering on the front of it. “Would've taken this in with him, wouldn't he have?”

No one speaks. Benwick looks between them all with an eyebrow raised. Clearly, he does not sense how their dammed voices are building inside their mouths.

Magilou overflows first.

“Then it's time,” she says. “Place your bets, everyone!”

“He's shaving his head,” Dyle says immediately. Eleanor can feel any chance of her smiling dissipate right then and there.

“No,” she says.

But Eizen very well could be. The bi-annual summer retreat is only days away from now. As is the swim race almost all of them participate in. Eleanor vaguely recalls Eizen mentioning something about wanting to _reduce drag._

“Why not?” Dyle says.

Eleanor has no explanation. Just, “No. He isn't.”

“Wow. Dull,” Magilou says with a grimace. “Come on, is that the best you've got?”

“He's fixing his eyeliner?” Dyle says. Then Rokurou slams a hand down on the edge of his desk as if to hit a buzzer.

“He's fallen for a pyramid scheme and he's on the phone with them right now!”

This is unlikely. _Extremely_ unlikely. Nonetheless, Magilou seems pleased.

“Now we're talking!”

“You know, he's probably just writing a letter to his sister,” Benwick says. It earns him a boo and some hissing from Magilou, Dyle, and Rokurou. 

“I wouldn't blame him if he was,” Eleanor says. His only sister Edna goes to a boarding school in a far-flung part of the Empire. But Eizen prefers to send letters to her by post rather than electronically. In the Nine-nine, personal items such as letters are like food: you risk disaster if you leave such things unattended.

So when Eizen left a letter to Edna open on his desk, Detective Rangestu took the opportunity to read it aloud in his best ninety year-old man voice to raucous laughter.

Eleanor would reluctantly admit that it had been funny. Except that something in her stomach twists in on itself when she thinks about how red Eizen had turned after he walked in two-thirds into the performance.

“Come on Benwick,” Magilou whines. “Think of something exciting before you're disqualified!”

“Okay, fine,” Benwick says and crosses his arms. Blows a bit of hair out of his face. “He's... trying to win tickets to a concert.”

Everyone looks at him with a stony expression. Even Eleanor. Eizen has made it clear on several occasions that he does not like talk radio. Or radio show hosts. During stakeouts, she has seen him become bitter whenever a station's host starts to talk over the last few notes of a song.

“Hey,” Benwick says, lifting his hands up from his arms. “Look, uh, maybe the tickets are for his sister. She's around that age, right? Boy bands and, uh, I dunno.”

“If he's been on the phone this whole time,” Eleanor says, “it's more likely that he's been arguing over a warranty for one of his appliances.”

It feels like every eye in the precinct has turned to look at her. Eleanor takes an unconscious step backward and says, “W-what?”

Dyle whistles lowly.

“Whoa, that's some low-hanging fruit,” Magilou says.

“Yeah, kind of a low blow, don't you think?” Rokurou says.

“I didn't expect that from you,” Benwick says with wide eyes.

Eleanor can feel her face go red.

“How is mine any worse? It's more likely than him shaving his head, or, or trying to win boy band tickets!” Impossibly, her face goes even hotter. “You know how particular he is about everything― he'd never shave his head in a shared space! He'd go to his hairdresser! And I don't think Eizen even knows how radio contests work. I'm almost certain he once thought caller number nine was the name of a band.”

Now there is something like fear in her co-workers faces. Only Magilou looks unafraid. In fact, she appears to be thrilled.

“Remind me not to stand between you and your breakfast foods,” she says. Eleanor shoots Magilou a dark look. 

“Somebody's hangry,” Rokurou murmurs.

“I'm not!” Eleanor stamps her foot. Places her hands on her hips. “I can't take this any longer! I'm going―”

“What are you all doing?”

Eleanor freezes.

“Oh, Medissa!” Magilou waves at her. “Care to join in on a bet?”

Eleanor exhales. Medissa had sounded too much like Captain Crowe right then. As a leader, Eleanor holds Captain Crowe in high regard. It would be awful to jeopardize a recommendation from her because of this.

“A bet about?” Medissa asks.

“The Sarge's locked everyone out,” Rokurou says. Points a thumb at the break room door. “We're betting on why.”

“I don't care about the why.” It feels so good to finally say it out loud. “I just want in!”

 _Hangry,_ Magilou mouths visibly to Medissa. Eleanor's nose scrunches up as she glares at Magilou. 

“Oh, did he now?” Medissa says. “I thought he was still in the captain's office.”

“The captain's office?” Eleanor echoes. The scowl slips from her face as she turns to look at Medissa. The senior detective leans on one hip.

“Yes. He was in there for a while. Didn't you see him, Magilou?”

Everyone looks at Magilou. Hands folded behind her head, Magilou's gaze is directed up towards the ceiling.

“Maybe I did,” she says. “Maybe I didn't.”

“You didn't,” Benwick answers for her.

Grinning, Magilou turns her eyes away from them. Half a minute passes. Then Magilou lifts her hands up above her head and stretches. 

“That changes things!” she says. “Our Lord Crowe left at ten thirty for a school talent show. Sadly, not to compete herself.” The pout on her lips is just a badly disguised smile. “So he wasn't in there to speak with her...”

Eleanor is surprised. Magilou never seemed all that competent to her, but she supposes Captain Crowe would not have kept her around if she truly was no good at her job.

“What was he doing in there?” Benwick gives voice to the one question on all their minds.

“No clue,” Medissa says as she returns to her desk. “Have fun.” 

The remaining five of them approach Captain Crowe's office. As always, her office blinds are nearly closed. Eleanor suspects she keeps them that way so that her subordinates never know if she is watching them or not.

Magilou opens the door. But she does not step inside first. Rokurou does. Magilou comes second. Dyle and Benwick go in behind her. Eleanor holds her breathe as she crosses over the threshold last. She has never been in Captain Crowe's office without her permission before.

The office looks ordinary. Or as ordinary as her office ever has. The only items on her desk is a lamp, name plate, and a framed photograph of her deceased family members. The cabinet behind her hosts books and nothing else. Her various certificates hang on the wall. But there is little else to speak of in here.

Eleanor once wondered why the captain did not keep any pictures of Laphicet in her office. She mentioned this to Magilou after two drinks at their precinct's favourite bar. Apparently, Captain Crowe keeps pictures of Laphicet in her wallet. Magilou never did say how she discovered this. But Eleanor still believes her. She has a feeling that Magilou is a kind of magician: she had ways of getting past locks and out of tight spaces.

Nothing in the office looks out of place. Except that the captain's chair is literally not in place.

“The chair's gone?” Benwick says.

“Did Eizen take it?” Rokurou asks. Turns his head this way and that. Brow furrowing, Eleanor looks around too. The chair is definitely not in the office any longer.

“Wouldn't you have noticed if he took it in with him?” she asks Rokurou.

“Honestly?” With his palms opens, Rokurou sweeps his hands out to either side of him. “I can get severe tunnel vision happening when I'm writing reports. If I stop for anything, I know my motivation for finishing it is just going to go―” Bringing a hand to centre, Rokurou turns a thumb to the floor. Whistles as he drops it. Eleanor just barely resists the urge to rub her temples.

“So, what?” Magilou's voice trembles. Sounds at once disappointed and excited. “He took Velvet's chair?”

“I guess?” Rokurou says. “You see anything, Dyle?”

“Me?” Dyle waves a hand dismissively. “Nah, I was too busy busting a gut when Magilou thumbs-upped―”

“Enough!” Eleanor throws her hands up. Turns on her heel. “I'm getting in if it's the last thing I do!” Pushing past her co-workers, she storms out of the office. Her fists swing by her sides. Detectives, witnesses, and the arrested alike must be looking at her right now. She can only hope that none of them ever mention this to the captain. 

Eleanor pounds a fist on the break room door.

“Occupied!” Eizen calls out from the other side.

“Sergeant,” Eleanor says sternly. “It's been well over a half-hour now. I'd like my bagel.”

Silence. Her foot taps once. Twice.

Eleanor is just about to bang on the door again when it opens up a crack. The sergeant's hand slips through this slight opening. Pinched between his fingers and a napkin is her bagel. It looks a little bit burnt.

Something like a violin string snaps in her mind.

She takes the bagel in one hand. Slams her other hand against the door to try to swing it open. Unsurprisingly, she hears his hand smack against the door too. Eizen pushes against her from the other side.

Eleanor wants to be captain of her own precinct someday. She is just behind Rokurou when it comes to precision with a firearm. She is exceptionally organized and diligent. The captain herself had once complimented her on how quickly she can close a case. She works very well with others.

But not today.

“Let! Me! In!” she shouts.

“Go! A! Way!” he shouts back.

Eizen must be putting his whole weight into this push. Eleanor is pushed a few centimetres backwards as the door shuts in her face. Making a strangled sort of noise, she stamps her feet. Steps on something soft.

Her bagel. It must have slipped out of her hand at some point.

There is no sound that could adequately express what she is feeling right now. For what feels like a few minutes, she stares at what is left of her blueberry bagel. 

Then Eleanor inhales.

“You broke the captain's chair, didn't you?” she says. Very loudly. Eleanor is almost certain that everyone in the precinct has just heard her. The four she had left behind in the office quietly form half a circle behind her.

Once again, the door opens up no more than a crack.

Eleanor takes it as an invitation. There is no resistance when she pushes against the door now. Magilou tries to follow her inside. But Eleanor closes the door on her. Flips the lock on. On the other side, Magilou slaps the door and tries the handle a few times. She and the others complain loudly. 

Eizen has retreated across the room. What remains of the captain's deluxe faux leather chair sits between them. Both armrests have come off and lie on the floor. The lever to adjust the tilt of the seat has been pulled clean from its place. 

Eleanor knows that Eizen does not have much luck when it comes to technology. The screen of every mobile phone he has ever owned has cracked. Dishwashers leak if he sets them. The ancient PC he has on his desk is irreplaceable because it is one of the few things that has survived his “curse”. 

She did not realize that his bad luck also extended to furniture. 

Eizen does not meet her eyes. Although his expression looks blank, she can recognize that he is shrieking in the inside. It earns him her pity.

Eleanor crosses the room and gives him a gentle pat on the elbow.

“Two minutes.” His voice is little more than a whisper. “I sat on it for only two minutes. I just want to see what it was like...”

Unintentionally, Eleanor sighs. Pats his arm again.

“We'll figure this out.”

“You better!” Somehow, Magilou's voice sounds so clear. Both Eizen and Eleanor's heads spin in place to find Magilou sticking her own through the open doorway.

“But I―” Eleanor starts. The sound of metal clinking against metal interrupts her. Magilou raises a hand and shakes a ring of a keys. 

Jaw dropping, Eleanor's eyebrows skyrocket.

“What? Did you not know that I keep the keys to everything here?” Magilou takes one step further into the room. 

In her other hand is the squished bagel. 

“How wasteful, Detective Hume,” she says. Drops the bagel into the garbage can by the door. Eleanor winces as she hears it hit the bottom of the bin. No words come to her as she watches Magilou sweep her long bangs away from her eyes. “Oh, and Captain Calamity's going to be back in ten. I'd hurry up if I were you... especially if Phi lost that talent show.”

There is no formal complaint Eleanor could word sternly enough to pacify herself.

But she can feel Eizen practically turn to stone beside her. So she grabs him by his wrist. Gives him a small tug.

“Let's get started,” she says. Eizen nods.

* * *

They managed to fix the chair in time. In fact, they had three minutes to spare. Captain Crowe returned to the office in a surprisingly good mood and was none the wiser. Or she simply did not seem to care.

The next morning, Eleanor finds a plate with two blueberry bagels waiting on her desk. She knows who they are from.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for your time!


End file.
